摘要：荷兰，奈梅亨市（Nijmegen），每年10月，这里潮湿多雨，时不时刮起的西北风，提醒过往的人们，这里是寒冷的北欧。但比天气更残酷的是，荷兰已经成为破坏全球化的黑手。一场教科书式的“明抢”，打碎了中国出海企业的“太平梦”

荷兰，奈梅亨市（Nijmegen），每年10月，这里潮湿多雨，时不时刮起的西北风，提醒过往的人们，这里是寒冷的北欧。但比天气更残酷的是，荷兰已经成为破坏全球化的黑手。一场教科书式的“明抢”，打碎了中国出海企业的“太平梦”

国庆不长眼，偏偏撞上枪口。

就在我们举国欢庆、放飞自我的时候，大洋彼岸的荷兰人，用一出“七日维权夺权记”，给所有出海的中国企业，狠狠上了一课：你的资产，从来不是你的资产，除非你够强。

主角，是闻泰科技和它全资拥有的安世半导体（Nexperia）。

配角，是荷兰政府、法庭，以及闻泰自己养肥的三只“白眼狼”高管。

这一幕的走向，已经不是简单的商业纠纷，而是赤裸裸的国家级资产掠夺预演。它不光关系到闻泰一家，更关系到中国企业在海外的全部身家和面子。

9月30日， 荷兰经济事务与气候政策部发号施令：安世半导体在全球30个主体，一年内不准动资产、知识产权、业务和人员。

划重点： 这一纸政令，相当于给安世半导体打了一针“麻醉剂”，固定住了它的全部价值。

10月1日， 安世三位外籍高管——你没看错，就是那批跟着闻泰吃香喝辣的“打工仔”——立刻联名反水。他们以与政府禁令高度一致的措辞，要求荷兰法庭：

10月1日当天， 荷兰法庭接单，没有庭审，没有辩论，立刻全盘满足！

10月7日， 荷兰法庭进一步裁决：

结果： 闻泰科技，一家花了超过300亿人民币买下、全资控股的公司，一觉醒来，没了控制权，只剩下一张随时可能作废的分红权证书。

你品品这速度、这效率、这默契。 从政府禁令到高管反水，再到法庭光速判决，整套动作一气呵成、干净利落。

这哪里是法律流程？分明是预谋已久的“打劫”剧本！

闻泰，成了砧板上的肉。

闻泰和安世，本是一段“欧中联姻”的商业佳话。

安世半导体，本是荷兰恩智浦（NXP）的“弃子”——一个在2016年前后，欧洲半导体业流行“轻资产”时，被认为是“低利润、高消耗”的“累赘”。中国财团以28亿美元接盘，随后闻泰科技又斥资300多亿人民币完成100%控股。

闻泰科技，从一家给小米、华为代工手机起家的ODM厂商，通过这笔惊天收购，一跃成为国际半导体巨头。

重点是： 闻泰接手后，安世的业绩翻倍，2022年营收达到23.6亿美元峰值，毛利率显著提升，零负债运营。它成了欧洲半导体业的“模范生”。

但闻泰犯了致命的“欧洲病”：体面。

为了规避地缘政治风险，闻泰对安世“供着养”：

说白了，闻泰只是一个“带资入场、运营出色”的中国籍大股东和管家。

在荷兰人眼里：技术是欧洲的，工作是欧洲的，税收是欧洲的。你中国股东，不过是个会下金蛋的鹅。现在，鹅肥了，蛋也够多了。

所以，荷兰政府的底气，就是“技术属地化”的陷阱：我抢你，是抢回“自家的东西”。

荷兰人为什么要选在2025年的国庆节动手？

答案，藏在美国的一份文件里，是“穿透性规则”。

2024年12月， 闻泰科技被美国列入实体清单。这是第一根导火索。

2025年9月29日， 荷兰动手的前一天，美国发布“出口管制穿透性规则”：母公司上黑名单，子公司一并管！

高潮来了： 荷兰法庭文件自己披露，在这之前，美国政府早就找荷兰外交部打了招呼： 闻泰要被“穿透”了，安世会被株连。想保住安世？简单，换掉中国籍CEO张学政！

路透社的消息更是撕下了最后的遮羞布： 荷兰政府的行动，就是迫于美国的威胁，甚至连那三位“白眼狼”高管的反水，都是荷兰官员推动和授意的！

逻辑链条清晰得可怕：

美国： 我要用“穿透规则”卡死你（闻泰和安世）。 荷兰： 别卡我，安世技术在我这。 美国： 可以。但你要证明安世的“运营独立性”，别让技术流向中国。（潜台词：把中国股东的控制权拔掉！） 荷兰： 明白！—— （于是有了“七日维权夺权记”）

这哪里是“独立自主”的欧洲？这分明是“美国大棒下的提线木偶”，顺便“顺手牵羊”抢一把！

荷兰官方的理由是： “安世半导体存在严重的治理缺陷”“威胁技术知识和能力的连续性”。

鬼才信！ 业绩翻倍、毛利提升、负债清零、技术没挪窝。这叫“治理缺陷”？

真相是： 欧洲的心思变了，从2016年“安世是个包袱”，变成了2025年“安世是个宝贝”。一个拥有先进半导体制造能力的欧洲企业，却被中国人全资控股？寝食难安！

为了抢这个“宝贝”，荷兰政府搬出了一部70年前的“古董”： 《货物可用性法案》。这部法案诞生于苏美冷战时期，原本是为了在战争时控制战略物资。

2023年，荷兰特意修订了它，把“半导体”加了进去。

70年前的法案翻出来，自然是要用的。 2025年，它在闻泰的安世身上，不再是物资调配法案，而是升级成了一件赤裸裸的“地缘政治武器”！

这动作，实在太难看。

这是对国际商业规则、契约精神的公然践踏。今天的荷兰能用冷战法案抢闻泰，明天欧洲各国就能用各种“国家安全”名义抢所有中国企业的海外资产。

闻泰的遭遇，不是个案，是“风向标”。它划开了一个口子，在给世界各国树立一个“打劫”中国资产的“样板”。

面对荷兰这出“霸王硬上弓”，闻泰的抗议已经显得苍白无力。这事，早已超出了一家企业的能力范围，上升到了国家层面的博弈。

中国的反制，迅速而精准：

这场争夺战，不是终点，而是序幕。 它不仅仅是闻泰和荷兰的控制权之争，更是中国科技主权与西方联盟围堵之间的“创新主权争夺预演”。

闻泰，用300亿和失去的控制权，给所有出海的中国企业买了沉痛的“教育大礼包”：

在国际博弈中，技术和资产的“属地化”，不过是一张随时会被作废的“良民证”。当国与国的竞争白热化时，所谓的“市场原则”、“契约精神”，都得给“国家安全”让路。

你养肥的鹅，随时可能被抢走。

这场没有硝烟的战争，才刚刚开始。我们拭目以待。

The critical question for China's technological pioneers navigating the global stage is this: How does one reconcile the imperative of open engagement with the reality of increasing geopolitical containment? How can Chinese tech leaders safeguard their intellectual integrity and assets while strategically mitigating mounting geopolitical risks? This is the epoch-defining challenge that Wingtech and its wholly-owned subsidiary, Nexperia, have now brought into sharp focus.

In Nijmegen, the Netherlands, the damp, windswept chill of October serves as a fitting backdrop to a far more brutal atmosphere: the sudden, brazen breakdown of global trust. A recent sequence of events has not merely fractured a business deal; it has exposed the Netherlands as an unlikely but devastating agent in the sabotage of globalisation.

This was no subtle corporate dispute. It was a textbook asset seizure that violently woke up China’s outward-looking enterprises from their "peaceful expansion" dream.

The timing was particularly pointed, unfolding as China celebrated its National Day holiday. While attention was elsewhere, the Dutch state orchestrated a "Seven-Day Campaign of Control and Takeover," delivering a chilling lesson to every Chinese company operating abroad: Your assets are only yours if you possess the power to defend them.

The players in this high-stakes drama are: Wingtech Technology, the Chinese parent, and Nexperia, its profitable semiconductor entity. The antagonists: the Dutch Government and Judiciary, supported by three of Wingtech’s well-compensated 'renegade' foreign executives.

The trajectory of this incident is profoundly concerning—it is a pre-emptive nationalisation and asset grab, jeopardising not just Wingtech's stake, but the very standing and security of all Chinese corporate holdings overseas.

September 30th: The Dutch Ministry of Economic Affairs and Climate Policy issues a sweeping directive, freezing all adjustments to assets, IP, operations, and personnel across Nexperia's 30 global entities for one year. This order effectively anaesthetised Nexperia, fixing its value for the forthcoming manoeuvre.

October 1st: Three senior foreign Nexperia executives—the very managers who had thrived under Wingtech’s ownership—immediately staged a mutiny. Their petition to the Dutch court mirrored the government’s language, demanding:

Crucially, on the same day, the Dutch court complied—no hearing, no debate, just immediate, full approval.

October 7th: The court escalated the action: the CEO’s suspension was maintained, an external director with a decisive vote was appointed, and critically, all Nexperia shares (minus one nominal share) were forcefully transferred from Wingtech's control into a designated trusteeship "for management purposes."

The Outcome: Wingtech, a company that invested over RMB 30 billion for 100% ownership, awoke to find its control vanished, retaining only a dubious, disposable right to dividends.

The speed, efficiency, and evident coordination—from ministerial order to executive betrayal to judicial endorsement—are alarming. This was no legal process; it was a meticulously scripted scheme for outright seizure. Wingtech was, quite simply, put on the block.

The Wingtech-Nexperia union was once held up as a model of Sino-European commercial synergy. Nexperia, originally the standard products division of NXP, was deemed a "burden" by the European semiconductor industry around 2016—a "low-margin, capital-intensive laggard" to be jettisoned. A Chinese consortium acquired it for $2.8 billion, with Wingtech eventually completing the 100% takeover.

Under Wingtech, Nexperia became a "European success story," doubling its performance, hitting a revenue peak of $2.36 billion in 2022, increasing margins, and achieving zero debt.

Wingtech’s fatal flaw, however, was its adherence to 'European decorum.' To mitigate geopolitical anxieties, Wingtech indulged and protected the European identity of Nexperia:

In essence, Wingtech was merely a high-calibre, capital-bearing Chinese steward. In the eyes of the Dutch, the technology, the jobs, and the tax revenue were all European property. The Chinese shareholder was simply a useful, but now expendable, goose laying golden eggs.

The government’s confidence in this appropriation is rooted in the 'technological domestication' trap: the claim that they are simply reclaiming "what is inherently ours."

Why the timing of the October holiday? The answer lies in the American policy of 'piercing scrutiny' (or 'penetrating rules').

December 2024: Wingtech is placed on the US Entity List—the first detonation fuse.

September 29th, 2025: A day before the Dutch intervention, the US issues a new export control rule: "If the parent is listed, the subsidiary is controlled."

The Climax: Dutch court documents themselves reveal that the US government had preemptively alerted the Dutch Ministry of Foreign Affairs: Wingtech was about to be 'pierced,' and Nexperia would be caught in the crossfire. The condition for Nexperia’s protection? Remove the Chinese CEO, Zhang Xuezheng.

The Reuters report stripped away the last vestiges of dignity: the Dutch government's action was directly compelled by US threats, and the revolt of the three executives was encouraged, if not engineered, by Dutch officials.

The logic is terrifyingly clear: US: I will cripple Nexperia using the 'piercing rule.' Netherlands: Don't cripple my tech asset. US: Fine. But you must prove Nexperia’s 'operational independence' and prevent technology transfer to China. (Subtext: Decapitate the Chinese control.)Netherlands: Understood. (Cue the Seven-Day Heist).

This is not the action of an 'independent Europe'; it is a clear-cut case of an American puppet state seizing an opportunity for self-enrichment under duress.

The official Dutch justification—"severe governance flaws threatening the continuity of technical knowledge and capability"—is patently absurd. Doubled performance, cleared debt, intact technology? This is not a "governance flaw"; it is a geopolitical excuse.

The Truth: Europe's perspective has shifted from Nexperia being a "burden" (2016) to a "strategic treasure" (2025)—a rare piece of advanced European manufacturing now controlled by a Chinese company. This is an intolerable state for many in the West.

To execute the seizure, the government resurrected a 70-year-old relic: the Goods Availability Act. Born during the Soviet-American Cold War to control strategic resources in wartime, it was essentially dormant until 2023, when the Netherlands specifically revised it to include "semiconductors."

Resurrecting a Cold War statute was a clear sign of intent. Applied to Wingtech’s Nexperia in 2025, it is no longer a resource allocation law; it is a barefaced geopolitical weapon.

This act is a gross violation of international business law and contractual sanctity. If the Netherlands can deploy a Cold War relic to appropriate Wingtech’s assets today, other nations in Europe and beyond will be emboldened to weaponise "national security" against all Chinese overseas investments tomorrow.

Wingtech's ordeal is not an anomaly; it is a precedent, opening a legal floodgate for the global raiding of Chinese assets.

Facing this 'legalised' coercion, Wingtech's corporate protests are meaningless. This is now a state-level confrontation.

China’s response has been swift and targeted:

This is not the end of a dispute; it is the opening salvo in a greater struggle between China's technological sovereignty and the containment strategy of the Western alliance.

Wingtech, having paid the grievous cost of RMB 30 billion and the loss of control, has delivered a painful lesson to its peers:

In geopolitical conflict, the 'localisation' of technology and assets is merely a temporary permit, liable to be revoked without notice. When great power competition intensifies, 'market principles' and 'contractual integrity' are instantly superseded by 'national security.'

The goose you painstakingly fattened can be taken at any moment. The cold war has begun in earnest, and the world is watching.

来源：国际上那些大事